Clark put down his cell phone and faced Diana's slightly puzzled look, shaking his head and saying, "It's nothing. Doctor Schiller worries I'm too excited and admonished me to not even think about carrying Oliver in flight. He just got off a long boat ride and needs to rest."
Diana sighed and joined Clark in walking out of the dining area, "Even though Doctor Schiller seems thoughtful, was it really necessary to make a call just to remind you of that?"
Clark scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly, "You're right. Oliver's return did get me pretty excited. When you just mentioned picking him up at the docks, I actually considered flying over and bringing him back in my arms."
Diana shook her head helplessly, "It seems every Schiller is a mastermind. But what's different is that this one seems to want to manage every detail."
"That's a good thing, isn't it? He can remind us to be mindful at the right moments. If I had such a responsible psychologist, that'd be great. The ones I usually see tend to be somewhat perfunctory."
"You still see a psychologist?" Diana said in surprise, "Do you have psychological issues?"
What she hadn't voiced was, you're probably healthier than 99.99% of Earthlings, both physically and psychologically, almost like the perfect human model.
Clark also heard the implicit meaning in Diana's words. He shook his head and said, "Before this, someone told me, 'You're so powerful, what if you lose control and cause terrible consequences?' I would just think they were targeting me on purpose. Why do so many people think I'd lose control? Am I not the same as humans?"
"But in Mexico, I saw the bloody consequences firsthand. Humans, much weaker than me, once unbalanced in power, can create such tragedies. I dare not imagine what would happen to Earth if I lost control."
"Later, I discussed this issue with Martha and Jonathan. They hoped I wouldn't be anxious about it and comforted me as best as they could. It wasn't until I discussed this matter with Bruce and Lex that they suggested I see a psychologist, so I could use an external perspective to assess my situation."
"But not every psychologist is that professional." Diana said, "I've dealt with some of them, and some don't even believe in what they've learned."
"Yes, I never expected them to be that highly skilled." Clark said with a smile, "But don't forget, I can read minds."
Diana smiled as well, now understanding that Clark had found another way to heal himself. He would open up to a psychologist about his troubles, and after listening, the psychologists would inevitably form judgments in their minds. They didn't have to express them aloud for Clark to completely understand their thoughts.
Of course, a psychologist's views could be biased, but by seeing several and drawing from each of their strengths, he could more accurately assess his own state.
They talked as they walked and soon arrived at the dock. Oliver was standing at the entrance with his luggage. Clark stretched out an arm and waved vigorously at him before rushing up and embracing him.
Clark patted Oliver on the shoulder and said something, but Diana, standing some distance away, clearly saw him pause mid-step. She noted the scene but said nothing, warmly greeting Oliver.
Clark and Diana naturally offered to help Oliver with his luggage. Clark took the largest suitcase, Diana carried two bags, and he wanted to take the big backpack off Oliver's back, but Oliver steadied the pack with a hand and said, "Don't treat me like a kid; I've traveled half the world with this backpack."
Diana didn't insist and let go, and they quickly boarded the ferry, ending up in a bar on the other side of the beach.
Lucifer wasn't there, but there were no customers in the bar either. There was a note left on the counter that told them to help themselves, so Diana went behind the bar to make drinks.
"I'm so happy, Oliver. This is a rare event in Gotham. Bruce will definitely be happy about it."
Oliver took his drink, smiled and said, "I couldn't miss such an important occasion. Where's Bruce? Why didn't he come with you?"
"Don't get me started. We were playing on the beach during the day, and Bruce got impatient while Selina was applying sunscreen to him. Now, look what happened, he got a sunburn. He might not even be back from the hospital yet."
"I've never seen such a fragile Batman." Diana sighed wistfully, "Another Batman got a shock hearing he'd been sunburned. Although he didn't show it, I know he was really taken aback. The whole situation is just ludicrous."
"I can't wait to see him turn into a cooked shrimp," Oliver said, laughing. "Haven't you figured it out? He tries to avoid this as much as possible. He has this aristocratic fetish; he doesn't want to be lumped in with rednecks."
"Too bad I can't tan no matter how much sun I get." Clark said, purposely adopting a tone of pride, "Otherwise, that would remind him that one of his best friends is a through-and-through redneck."
"Although I want him to get well, I'm afraid I still have to see him, there are some things I want to ask him." Oliver said, sipping his drink.
Clark and Diana exchanged glances but didn't pry. They could guess what Oliver and Bruce would talk about; whenever those two got together, it was always those matters.
For these two non-humans, such philosophical exchanges and clashes of thought were both too shallow and too deep. Neither had the patience to listen through them.
Clark was too inexperienced in the world, and Diana had seen too much of it; one acted out of a full heart, not needing to listen before taking action, while the other had lived through so much, knowing that whether she listened or not, actions must be taken.
This time was no different; they thought Oliver couldn't wait to talk to Bruce about his new achievements in Mexico and to set a new course for the upcoming actions, so they tacitly skipped over this topic and started talking about the music festival instead.
"I really can't imagine you listening to rap," Diana said, shaking her head, "Bruce doesn't listen to it; he doesn't even understand it."
"You won't believe what I'm about to say," Oliver said, lifting a finger and speaking mysteriously, "I went to high school with a rap superstar."
Diana thought hard, but she knew little about rap, and Clark was even more clueless, always claiming to lack an artistic touch. Some human art forms were too advanced for Kryptonians, after all.
"Who is it exactly?" Diana asked.
"Tupac Shakur, the famous Tupac!" Oliver laughed, "Have you forgotten that I'm Californian? I come from Star City, but I went to high school in Marin City, at Tamalpais High School, which has produced quite a few celebrities."
Clark and Diana both felt a bit surprised. Even those who didn't listen to rap had heard of Tupac's big name; he had always been exceedingly popular, destined to be the unparalleled miracle of the rap world.
"Though he was younger than me—I had graduated, and he hadn't started high school yet, so we didn't know each other. But that's okay; I heard he's also coming to the Gotham music festival, so we could chat then."
Clark looked at Oliver with some surprise, knowing that while Oliver seemed more approachable than Bruce and didn't quite have the airs of a prince, he was actually much prouder. Not just anyone could get him to initiate a conversation.
Clark guessed that Oliver probably just really liked Tupac's music. After all, everyone has their preferences, and there's no rule that rich kids can't like rap.
But Diana noticed that Oliver was raising his glass far more frequently today, which was odd. Oliver wasn't one to indulge in alcohol; in this, he was rather like Bruce. While they would drink a bit for social occasions and might have a small drink when with friends for the atmosphere, their demeanor and upbringing meant they never guzzled down booze like drunks.
As Diana was about to subtly inquire, Hal and Shiller arrived. They hugged Oliver in turn, and Clark made room for them. Hal and Shiller sat down on either side of Oliver.
After exchanging pleasantries, they started chatting leisurely while drinking, but all very consciously avoided any serious topics. After a while, Clark gestured with his hand and said, "You guys keep drinking, I'm going to the restroom."
"Hey, you've lost, buddy," a slightly tipsy Hal said, "Bro code, first one to use the restroom loses."
"Give me a break, I just chugged two big jugs of juice before coming here, I don't have an iron bladder, I have to go. This one doesn't count; wait for me to get back."
Having said that, Clark staggered off, allowing himself to be numbed by alcohol, just like any ordinary person getting drunk.
Then Shiller stood up and said, "I have to watch him; iron bladder or not, I'm sure Lucifer can't afford to renovate a steel restroom in case Clark falls... "
He hadn't finished speaking when a loud boom came from the restroom, and Shiller rushed over.
He found Clark perfectly fine, standing beside the washbasin. Clark waved his fist, and the loud sound was obviously a sonic boom from his punch, without any damage.
Clark, leaning on the washbasin, sighed and said, "Doctor, you were right; Oliver is in a bad mood, he's keeping something from us."
Shiller raised an eyebrow at him, clearly asking if he knew what it was, to which Clark shook his head and said, "I can't just invade someone's secrets like that; it's unethical, telling us himself and having me read his mind to understand are completely different things."
Clark was somewhat uneasy; he thought Shiller might argue against this view. He was a bit torn as well—helping friends was his duty, but he also knew humans valued their privacy very much, especially Oliver, so reading his mind would certainly anger him.
But if he didn't read it and something serious did happen, it would be too late for regrets. Midway through drinking, Clark, unable to hold back any longer, had Shiller come out, urging him to draw a conclusion, to give him some peace.
"You can't always depend on others," Shiller said with a smile, pointing out Clark's problem, but he didn't pressure him and instead said, "Mind Reading Technique isn't as almighty as you think. Otherwise, you could give it a try; I bet even if you read it, you still wouldn't be able to figure out what's really going on."
Clark then felt a bit defiant but didn't express it; he thought while psychologists were indeed impressive, and Shiller was exceptionally so, he himself was Superman, after all. What trouble couldn't the Mind Reading Superman solve?
Before returning to the bar, Clark, as if on a dare, used a deeper Mind Reading Technique on Oliver, and the next second he was overwhelmed by an infinite flood of sorrow and despair.
Bang!
The bar broke into two pieces, and everyone stared at Clark, astonished. His eyes were like deep blue moons sinking into a lake of blood, tears swirling in them.
He mustered all his strength to keep from looking at Oliver, which let him successfully hide his prying into another's secret, but his head was muddled by chaotic thoughts, nearly losing control.